


Quell Your Thoughts

by zanthe



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23454397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthe/pseuds/zanthe
Summary: Visions are a plague on his mind, and they were only getting worse.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	Quell Your Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Here's that thing I wanted to write.

The first vision was confusing. A blur of movement and voices, voices he didn't know. Faces he didn't know. It was like being pulled out of time and then being forced to observe it. 

(The Monado is cold in his grasp.)

  
The second vision still haunts him. He can hear the scuttling of arachnos, feel their clawtips on him, the impact of the Queen's pincer piercing flesh that isn't his.

  
(His blood still runs cold in his veins.)

  
Some visions are too vague to draw sense from, others sharp and tangible, or maybe so vivid that he can just imagine the rest. The smell of blood, of Mechonis metal, oil burning.

  
(Please, make them stop.)

  
He knows he's the only one who can see these curses, the only one who can truly influence the future, but that knowledge is only another burden upon him.

  
(He'll break at this rate, help.)

  
He questions why. Why him? What did he do to be cast into such a fate? He used to be grateful for this power, but now it overwhelmed him.

  
(He was powerless to help them anyway.)

  
Dread was background noise at this point, always there, waiting for the moment the future would reveal itself within the present. It never stopped being scary.

  
(What could he do to save them?)

  
The truth was still an incomplete picture. What lay within the Monado changed with every perspective given. A God. A monster. A means to an end.

  
(He just wanted the fighting to stop.)

  
He didn't want to kill, not again, didn't want to see anyone else die. All the hatred in his heart wasn't strong enough reason for more pointless death.

  
(None would die by his hand, he swore.)

  
The Monado resisted his newfound drive. Pierced his thoughts with a power never revealed. Electric, cold, furious. A punishment for his deviation.

  
(It hurt, but he didn't understand why.)

  
He couldn't explain it, why now the Monado resisted.

  
(He couldn't allow that to stop him.)

  
A single mistake could ruin everything. 

  
(His grip on the Monado trembled.)

  
The headaches were getting worse.

  
(Every muscle in his body tensed.)

  
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

  
(He can sense it now, time's flow.)

  
What happens if he stops fighting?

  
(Terrible things, don't allow it.)

  
His friends are here with him.

  
(His chest aches, but nothing's wrong.)

  
He remembers a voice from dreams had years ago.

  
("Because you're not really here, not anymore.")

  
Meaningless, he was a child at the time.

  
(Why does it shake him so profoundly?)

  
There'd always been a voice in the back of his mind.

  
(It is normal, isn't it?)

  
He could worry about it later.

  
(When the fighting stops.)

  
No one else was in here.

  
(Or maybe they were hiding.)


End file.
